Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 165: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

OLD SPECIE. 157 beaten at his own game, while you occupy the house that has been your home.”’’ ‘‘T believe you, sir.’’ The detective was not blind. He saw that Jack Ramsay had been able to par- tially drown his sorrow at the loss of his dead love Florence. 3 Why not? Amy was her counterpart. He was positive that it would be easy to prove Florence the lost child Delmar had spoken of. In Amy then Jack saw his loved Florence, and it would be the most natural thing in the world for | him to gradually transfer his allegiance from the dead to the living. As to Amy, she had evidently been greatly taken by Jack’s nobility of character. In one way he had saved her from death in the awful tomb. The sequel was plain. He who ran could read it. Old Specie had things so regulated that he did not mean to waste time, so he asked the young couple to immediately accompany him. - On the way he talked. His tone was low from habitual caution, but they caught every word. What he told wasa decidedly interesting narra- tive, and both of his hearers listened intently to the strange recital. Then he gave them a brief outline of what he meant to accomplish now. Each one had a part to play. They found no difficulty in comprehending ex- actly what he meant to do, and their share in the -_ Eomicboo SS) (E(e)